


First

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Community: fandom_stocking, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Leonard remembers his first.  <br/>Disclaimer:  No no, no no, no.<br/>Warnings:  Pre-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First

**Author's Note:**

> In the back of my head, somewhere, I remember a comment about about Dr. McCoy having been previously married (and possibly divorced). This came out of that thought. I guess this could also take place in the Reboot universe, though I know the voices from TOS better.

“To firsts.” Dr. Leonard McCoy raised his shot glass of Rigellian brandy, smiling beatifically at Kirk. 

“Firsts?” Kirk cocked his head slightly, but drank his shot anyway. “Why firsts?”

“Man’s gotta have his secrets, Jimmy boy,” McCoy said, and poured them each another shot. He wasn’t about to tell his friend about the ‘first’ that inspired the toast, but today’s date reminded him all too well of it. 

If he was still married, today would’ve been his anniversary. He remembered that first night with Lilah, rolling around on the bed, the intimate kisses, the glitter of the diamond and the golden band on her delicate hand. The way her mouth pursed as she’d bent down between his legs, her eyes glinting up at him. He remembered the taste of her mouth after champagne, and strawberries, and everything else. 

He wanted to think about the happy times with her, not everything that came after. 

“So, Bones, why firsts?” Kirk was like a dog with a goddamn bone, sometimes, and this was one of them. 

“Told you, secrets.”

Kirk shifted closer, his shoulder bumping McCoy’s. “You’re horrible at secrets.” 

“Better’n you.” 

“So, tell.” He nudged McCoy. 

“Don’t wanna.” McCoy nudged him back, pouring more booze for them both. “There are some things a man keeps to himself.” 

“Bones,” Kirk said. He did a pretty good impression of a kicked dog. 

McCoy planted his hand in Kirk’s face and pushed him away. “You know that old rule in the military? ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’?”

“That,” Kirk narrowed his eyes, and McCoy could almost see the gears whirring, “was something in the late twentieth-early twenty-first century, right?”

Miming a pistol, McCoy ‘shot’ it at Kirk. “Got it in one.” 

“But that had something to do with same sex relationships, didn’t it?” Kirk peered at him. “Bones.”

“No, no, Jimmy boy, not that,” McCoy said, laughing. “But I’m not gonna share that secret.” He held up his shot glass, downing the liquor inside. Not yet, at least. Not until some of the hurt finally went away.


End file.
